


We're Just Friends

by Silver Lioness (Rumpels_Darker_Dearie)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cheating, F/M, May/December Relationship, Older Man/Younger Woman, Smut, domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:23:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22680139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumpels_Darker_Dearie/pseuds/Silver%20Lioness
Summary: Hermione see's how dejected The Malfoy's are in the Great Hall after the war and decides to be the bigger person and offers her hand in friendship, which Lucius accepts on behalf of the family. From this seed, friendship grows. She starts dating Roger Davies of Ravenclaw - but all is not what it seems and Hermione wonders if she's made a mistake...Does she have a perfect man? If so, does she realise he's there in his letters? In her dreams? In her life...
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy, Luna Lovegood/Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley, Roger Davies/Cho Chang, Roger Davies/Hermione Granger
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35
Collections: Love Fest 2020





	We're Just Friends

**Author's Note:**

> #TeamEros . #LF2020
> 
> I hope to keep this strictly Lumione. I know I have a tendency to throw in someone else to be the spanner in the works but in this case, he isn't in it for long.
> 
> This should only be four chapters long... If it is longer it's because I love Lucius too damn much!
> 
> Also this is unbeta'd!

**Burying The Hatchet**

Before they started dating, Hermione and Lucius were sort-of friends. It was a strange friendship. They wrote copiously and regularly to each other, nothing meaningful but they became each other’s confidant. The more they wrote the deeper into trouble she got. It began under difficult circumstances.

Once she witnessed exactly how dishevelled, how out of control, and stoic amongst the throngs of grief, wailing and despair she felt it was only the right thing to do to try and be the bigger person. They sat in the Great Hall quietly settling down in a dark corner. An action non-Malfoy-esque as she had understood them. None of them acknowledged her coming over towards them.

“We’re in a whole new world now,” Hermione said with a slight quiver in her voice, they could strike as a frightened snake would. “Might as well embrace it!” When they did not answer Hermione followed Narcissa’s gaze to where Tonks body was wriggling on a cot moaning. “I think I will go and see if my niece is as willing to forgive as you are Miss Granger,” the tall elegant witch said calmly, though her hands balled into fists. It was clear that Mrs Malfoy was showing her she was not welcome.

Draco glanced up and grunted but at least he took her hand. Now it was Lucius turn, whatever he decided she would do, “Are you here to rub it in my face?” he whispered quietly.

Hermione chewed on her lower lip and began hopping from foot to foot, feeling extremely underdressed, even in the state of deshabille. The red-rimmed eyes and dejected stance, he was still an imposing matter. “No,” she whispered quietly, his bags had bags under his eyes, Lucius rarely sighed or smoked but now he wanted to be home if only to indulge in a Cuban cigar. It was clear she was waiting for an explanation, “I wanted to bury the hatchet. No hard feelings.”

Suddenly Lucius was on his feet, “No. Hard. Feelings.” He drawled and hissed at the same time. “No. Hard. Feelings? Are you that arrogant that you speak for the wizarding world. I’m about to be locked up,” he snarled. “If you really wanted to bury the hatchet, you would think of a way for me to return home with dignity.”

Hermione gulped and fiddled about with her denim jacket that was still damp and covered in Horcrux blood. Flecks of it stained her cheeks and glinted a little on her fingernails. Neither were at their best. Still, at least she was trying to be the bigger person. “If you want to really help, Miss Granger, you would figure out a way we can stay out of Azkaban!”

“All right,” she said without thinking. “I will!”

Like the Gryffindor she was she kept true to her word. Eventually, after much studying, she said if they were to tell on their fallen and escaped comrades it was like a balm to Lucius soul whenever one got caught.

It was during the school’s rebuilding that Lucius and Hermione began their rather strange friendship. Often they were seen whispering in corners, sitting on the grounds in the sunshine eating fine picnics brought from Malfoy Manor. The girl, in his opinion was too skinny. It was as if she became his personal project – the friendship between her husband and the muggleborn took its toll on their marriage and she divorced him, the first person he thought of to get sympathy from was Hermione. She fulfilled the role quite nicely and they began having suppers at the Manor too.

Unfortunately this also clashed with her plans with Roger Davies – A Ravenclaw who had asked her out whilst rebuilding the school. Ron had confessed that kissing her was like kissing his sister and she agreed with him and they firmly remained friends. It happened on a break from putting rocks back together. They had been dating for a month, but something felt different, their sole topic of conversation was that she was talking to and sticking her oar in when it came to the Malfoys.

When she confessed it was an idea of hers to keep him out of Azkaban, he went practically puce with anger and his clenched fists at his side flew at her face and she stumbled and fell to the next punch he smashed on the other side of her face. Not knowing how to react, Hermione stared in fear at her boyfriend. Was he though? Had she built him up inside her head as the perfect man for her because he was clever? She rubbed where the pain throbbed. He withdrew his fists but not before he pushed her against the wall, his hands tight around her throat. He whacked a knee into her stomach and angrily stormed up to the door, leaving her a sobbing mess on the floor.

“You’re not to see him again!” he snarled. “You’re with me and you have no right to be with him when you’ve got me!” he coldly stepped over her body and opened the door, “you’re my girl!” then slammed it shut.

The quiet that followed caused her ears to ring madly with tinnitus, and she had caught sight of a pewter bowl on the mantlepiece of the house she was staying at in Hogsmeade. A cottage that belonged to an ancient witch willing to do anything for one of the Golden Trio and as Hermione was her favourite she invited the girl to live with her and the offer was accepted.

That was the first time she ran to the fireplace and put in the Floo Powder, “Malfoy Manor!” she enunciated clearly.

She stumbled into the fireplace before being engulfed in green smoke. Her jaw thrummed where it had been struck, her chin and cheek throbbed, she had not realised she had bit her lips. A trickle of blood ran down her chin and she could not seem to see, by the time she reached Malfoy Manor she felt sick and vomited on the beautifully tiled floor. She Tergeo’d the mess before anyone else stumbled upon it. Thankfully, Lucius was in his study when he felt an intruder.

What a shock it was to see Hermione with a swollen face and jaw, “Hermione,” he gasped as his eyes widened considerably, “what happened to you?” he saw she was shivering despite the warm day.

Immediately he unclasped his cloak and swished it around, drawing it tight around her body, allowing his fingers to brush against her skin. A strange feeling filled Hermione that day, but that was impossible. It was just his innate kindness. A strange virtue for him to have, she’d been told after their first dinner together that he had destroyed that room she was tortured in as unwanted memories had darkened the family’s dreams.

He pushed her hair aside. She began to cry but was not about to show it, but the soot on her face betrayed her as tears fell from the corners of her eyes, “Tell me who did this to you and I will visit a punishment most befitting among them for the culprit!”

Frightened but emboldened by having him on her side completely, she laughed, “No,” she sniffed as tears were still falling, “all I require is that you keep this an absolute secret between friends. I don’t want anyone to know.”

Lucius sighed but tenderly brushed down her clothes with his hands and offered her a seat in the hallway, he knelt down on his knees and took both her hands in his on her lap. She sighed, “R-Roger did it,” she whispered, “but he’s never hit me before,” she said.

“That is not a defence,” Lucius hissed, “just make sure you come to me when you need to – you can rely on me.”

She glanced up through damp lashes, her warm eyes swimming in tear, her lip pouting and her hair wilder than ever yet there was a certain beauty about her that could insidiously creep into a man’s skin. She would not win any prizes with her freckles dusting her face, her untameable hair and her constantly inky hands. There was an inner-beauty to her that shone from her eyes. He’d hoped she’d never turn blind so she could always see the beauty in the world.

He stood up, bent his knees and picked her off the chair like she weighed absolutely nothing, and he walked her to his study where sat a handsome mahogany desk with a dragon leather inlaid top and gold filigree pattern all around the border – and a chaise longue, where he gently deposited her.

“You won’t leave me,” she said in fear.

He gently shook his head, “Never,” he said calmly though inside he was a seething mass of schemes, machinations and plans on what to do with the Davies boy.

Once she was settled on the sofa, Lucius clicked his fingers for a house-elf, “Mopsy,” he commanded, “some bruise paste,” the elf nodded and immediately left. “You aren’t going to hide this from your friends.”

“Ron’s going to go mental. At least you can restrain yourself.” 

From then-on whenever Hermione would get upset, hurt or just really tired, they would snuggle up on together in front of the fireplace, her tears and in dangerous circumstances, her blood on his crisp shirt. Eventually, they were so comfortable with their friendship and nuzzle her face into the crook of Lucius’s neck. It’s completely platonic, she thought, nothing romantic about this whatsoever.

Every time she broached breaking up with Roger he would always deeply apologise and offer her flowers, chocolate and/or a fancy dinner as an eighteen-year-old could afford.

“Hermione?” Ginny gasped one day when they were getting dressed for a double date, “those bruises… what are they?”

“Um,” she blushed, “just, er, accident-prone, that’s all.”

“Really?” Ginny’s brow rose up, “that doesn’t sound like you, at all!”

Suddenly Harry rushed excited and happy, “He’s awake, Snape’s awake!” he skidded to a halt at the sight of his sister and girlfriend naked and blushed to the root-tips of his hair. “Those bruises!” were all he could say.

She sighed; it was only three days before School was back. “Accident prone,” she said.

Ginny threw a green skirt at Harry, “Get Out!” she exclaimed.


End file.
